A Theology of Video Games has been something of an experiment for me.

Although I’ve done copious amounts of writing on elements of spiritual formation, including pieces published on outlets like Crosswalk, Patheos, and The Christian Post, I’ve never written about anything related to video games, despite the fact that playing them has been my longest-standing hobby.

And to say it has been a “success” would be an understatement.

Our Substack is still a baby (less than four months old) and this was just an experimental offshoot that has garnered more than 100 weekly readers and our most read article (Video Games as Art).

But now I’ve written on all the topics I had planned regarding video games, and I want to hear from you all about where this should go next.

I could…

• keep diving in on articles about gaming, like I’ve been doing

• do video game reviews from a Spiritual Formation perspective (this will take time I wouldn’t keep a weekly cadence, but I could take game requests)

• choose a new topic to dive deeper on in a new section, like music or basket weaving, or the mega-church

This poll will be open for about a week, so tell me what you think below.

Either way, I’m grateful to have had a place to start putting my thoughts on video games and spiritual formation into words. These posts have served as something like a rough draft on a small book I would like to write in the next year or two under the same name as these articles (A Theology of Video Games).

Over the next week I’ll get y’all’s thoughts on next steps, then I’ll drop back into your inbox with an update.

Thank you for all your support.

In Christ,

Phil Snyder

Share The Living Room Disciple

This is the (temporary) conclusion in a series on “A Theology of Video Games”. To see the whole series click here.

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Not because of any current manifestations of addictive behavior, mind you, but because we live in a culture that is more and more normalizing boys having really unhealthy relationships to video games.

Our culture puts our boys at a disadvantage, normalizing things like using video games to cope with stress, the inclusion of gambling-like systems inside games (think loot boxes), and the proliferation of live-service games in which there is never an end but only more more more.

And not having video games in our home is no guarantee that our children won’t develop unhealthy habits later in life — the same way not having alcohol in the home won’t guarantee our children grow up to have a healthy relationship to alcohol.

But this article isn’t about the problems our children face, but about the practical steps we’ve learned raising four children in this culture. As always, this is less a “how to raise kids that aren’t video game addicts” and more like, “some thoughts and practices from another parent on the road”.

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Principle 1: Acknowledge It’s A Drug

We discussed this at length in our last post, but I’ll touch it briefly here because it is super important.

Any device that is designed to create spikes of dopamine in the human brain should be considered (by parents and consumers, at least) as a drug. Hard stop.

That’s doesn’t mean children can’t play video games. Caffeine is a drug, yet I don’t think someone is a “bad parent” when they let their kids drink Mt. Dew at a birthday party or let their children eat some dark chocolate at Halloween Fall Fest.

Still, I do think someone is parenting poorly when they allow their child unfettered access to soda, candy, sugar-loaded juice boxes, and espresso. I’m not trying to be judgmental, I’m just acknowledging that children are developing physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and being thoughtful about what they consume is a part of responsible — and loving — parenting.

So, putting that Switch 2 in the hands of a kiddo at Christmas is a far bigger decision than Nintendo would like you to believe, and it should be made carefully and with intention.

Principle 2: No Free-to-Play Games

Always ask why a company makes something “free”.

Facebook runs ads, for example. Using the platform is “free” because you’re paying by giving your attention to sponsored posts. In order to keep you there, Facebook uses understandings of human psychology to make the site very addictive, which allows them to continue showing ads and growing their revenue.

Free-to-Play games are incredibly prone to a variety of sneaky techniques that keep players coming back for more. Fortnite, Roblox, Clash of Clans, Marvel Rivals, (etc) are not games for kids.

The content themselves may be fine (though, that’s up for debate), but the system of gameplay is intentionally addictive. I should probably write a whole post on only this, but please hear me when I say these games are (almost) always a bad idea.

Remember when we played Mario Bros as kids in the 80s and 90s?

We played a few levels, lost a bunch of lives and had to restart. Then we decided we’d rather go outside or maybe call our friend Debbie on the landline whenever Ronny would stop using the internet so that our call could go through!

The good ‘ole days of dial up and Super Nintendo.

Back then, companies made money on a game when it was purchased, and afterwards wouldn’t make money from that consumer again until they went and purchased another game from their publisher/developer. Companies were incentivized to make good games, not addictive ones.

It stayed like that until the rise of mobile gaming, which popularized free-to-play gaming. This new, free-to-play, model has more similarities to a Las Vegas slot machine and social media than to Pac-Man or Dr. Mario.

There are exceptions, of course. But unless you are a very involved gamer-parent, you won’t find them (and your kids are not good judges). So make a blanket rule: No free-to-play games.

Principle 3: Game Together

In my home, my children’s ONLY access to video games is with me or my wife. Literally, they have never played a game without us right there playing with them.

My oldest son is turning eleven, and that probably won’t change until he’s… I don’t know, to be honest.

If you think I’m crazy, that’s fine. But the benefits are numerous:

• There is a natural limit on play time (my wife and I are busy adults).

• Their only video game memories are communal.

• My son has no context for using games to “escape” anything — not his emotions, not conflict… nothing.

• We have a lot of fun together.

• My sons are witnessing a healthy relationship to video games (and by extension, all forms of entertainment).

• The games they play and how they play them are guided by me and/or my wife. We talk through difficult content in games, just like we do in movies, shows, the news, or Scripture.

For the record, not all parents have the time (or maybe not the interest) to play video games with their children. That makes perfect sense, and may mean that video games aren’t for your home — and that’s okay.

If we think that our children are “missing out” on a part of life because they can’t play Fortnite with their friends, we have a distorted view of what God has called our life to be.

Sometimes parents are at their best when they can say “no”.

In our home, we don’t often do organized sports. With four boys, it’s difficult to navigate practices, game days, and to afford equipment and league fees. At one point, we realized that trying to keep up with baseball was hurting our family time and increasing our stress in an already stressful season.

So we said, “not right now, this needs to wait” to all sports leagues.

Does that mean that my children are “missing out” on season after season of organized sports? Yes. But they aren’t missing out on the life God has for them. Instead, we said “no” to one thing so we could prioritize a greater one: Saturdays together as a family.

If the only way a child can play video games is alone or with other children, then this is a season to say, “no, this isn’t for our family right now”.

Oh, and I’m not just talking about for kids under twelve or something. If a thirteen, sixteen, or eighteen year old hasn’t had healthy video game habits built into their life by a loving adult, then it is unloving and impractical to expect them to form those habits on their own.

I mean, could you navigate a healthy relationship with a dopamine machine at eighteen?

Principle 4: Be Very Careful About Reward/Punishment Systems

“Ok, Tommy, you can play video games once you’ve done all your homework.”

On one level, there is nothing wrong with this approach. However, it’s subtly communicating something the parent doesn’t actually want to communicate: video games are the goal.

Sugar tastes good on its own, but we’re taught to love it when it’s offered as the reward for eating healthy foods — just eat your vegetables and you can have…

Video games are enjoyable on their own, but we’re taught to love them when they are offered up as the reward for homework, chores, etc.

Likewise, when video games are the main form of discipline (“Your grounded. No video games for a week!”) then children are also being told that video games are important, and doing without them is pain.

The point is, we need to have healthier forms of motivation and disciple in our home than video games.

If our response to this is, “but Phil, it’s the only thing that works to get Johnny to do his homework or stop hitting his sister” then that’s a sure sign video games should be removed from the home entirely.

Yes, that means that there will need to be a painful reset period for the child and parent. The child will need to detach from the cycle of gaming and the parents will need relearn how to lovingly motivate and discipline their child.

The process will be deeply uncomfortable, and will almost certainly come at the most inconvenient time in the family’s life, but it is so necessary.

Side note: This could easily apply to cell phones as well.

In Conclusion

I really like video games.

I also enjoy craft beer and good coffee.

My liking something and it not being “sinful” have little bearing on whether or not I allow my children to engage with it. As their parent, I must be willing to think critically about how my children experience and encounter the world.

For our family, that looks like allowing video games in our home, but being very thoughtful and intentional about their use.

And you know what? It’s going really well. I have lots of wonderful memories with my children, I look into their eyes every day, and I’m watching them grow in curiosity and creativity. In fact, our time playing video games has often fueled their Lego builds, been the catalyst for stories they’ve written, pictures they’ve drawn, and adventures they’ve lived out together in their imaginative play.

But my wife and I continue on this path knowing that this isn’t how their lives has to go. Video games can also be a source of creative death, addiction, inability to cope or grieve healthily, and so much more.

The difference is often a willingness for parents to be intentional and engaged.

This is part 6 in a series on “A Theology of Video Games”. To see the whole series click here.

The former is usually my intended audience for these posts as I work to try and bring light to the intersection of video gaming and spiritual formation. Yet, it’s parents of children who play video games that likely need to read these the most.

Rarely are video games introduced in adulthood (though, of course that happens). Most individuals who game have been doing it since adolescence—when they most need the guiding hand of their parents.

Ironically, the parents who talk to me are almost never the ones in the middle of raising their children. Instead, they are almost always dealing with an adult or late-teen son who seems to be a “failure to launch”.

“He just plays video games all day, and I don’t know what to do about it. He doesn’t get a job, isn’t going to school, and only talks to his friends online.” All of that is usually followed by, “Phil, can you talk to him?”

It took me a few years to figure it out, but the answer is usually “no, that won’t do any good.”

I’ve begun to try and invest some time and effort into talking to parents who still have children at home who play video games. But those conversations are often volatile, to say the least. Young parents (much like young children) struggle to receive thoughts and correction from someone else.

Over the next two weeks we’ll address both broad-brush scenarios regarding parenting and video games, starting with working with an adult child.

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The Simplified Story

From what I can tell, there seems to be a fairly common progression of parenting in relationship to video games. Roughly, it seems to go like:

• Child plays games on a tablet or phone when they’re young because it’s educational (Minecraft is like legos!) and gives mom/dad a break.

• When the child is 7-10, Christmas comes and someone gets the child a video game system.

• Parents implement the rules they grew up with, which are some variations of

  • Homework gets done first.

  • Firm time limit.

  • No video games on a school night.

  • No violent games.

• Over the next five years, those rules will get fuzzier and fuzzier. The child, it turns out, is pretty good at wearing down parents who are already stretched thin. The child begins to play on school nights and for longer periods of time, then gets to play their first “violent” game (I mean, they did watch Avengers, so they can “handle it”).

• Around the age of 13-16, the parent knows something is wrong and tries to step in, but receives major pushback. It doesn’t seem worth the effort, so the parents start to say things like,

  • He’s a good kid.

  • He’s doing well in school.

  • He still plays sports.

  • Video games are how he connects with his friends.

  • Etc.

• The parents see their child less and less and start to go days without meaningful eye contact. It’s not just video games, but also the natural processes of growing up and the general distancing of late-teen children. Yet, the 3+ hours of video games a day has become routine and doesn’t even seem odd anymore.

• At 17-20, the parent has “had enough”. They know something has gone wrong, and the hours and hours with a controller in hand are a part of the problem. The son/daughter is to blame because they’re lazy and unmotivated. Why haven’t they applied for college? Why don’t they have a job? Why won’t they get their driver’s license?

• The fights between child and parent get uglier. Either they’re growing louder and louder, or the child is shutting down more and more. Everyone feels a strange helplessness.

Understand What We’ve Done

If anything about that progression above sounds familiar, please keep reading. What is coming will be hard, but it is so important.

Whether parents understand it or not, putting a video game in the hand of a child (or a cellphone, for that matter) is simply handing them a drug. I’m not being dramatic.

Video games have progressed to the point where they are often dopamine machines (much like social media). They have the ability to (literally) change our brains.1

That doesn’t mean they need to be avoided entirely. Caffeine is a drug but I’ll still share a root beer float with my children or split a bit of dark chocolate. It does mean that I engage with video games with a significant level of intentionality and care.

What I’m getting at is this: If we have an adult child who has a clearly unhealthy relationship with video games, it’s almost certainly because we were their unknowing dealer.

We handed dopamine machines to a child or teen that could never have used wisely, then our primary tactic was setting up a reward system that deepened the addiction (finish your homework first! If you do x again I’ll take video games away for a week!).

Why are we surprised when our little addicts grow into big addicts?

Note: I use the word “addict” with a more social and nuanced connotation, rather than a clinical definition.

Start With “Sorry”

We cannot help our adult children heal and mature if we refuse to take any ownership in the problems they face.

As parents, we didn’t mean to and we weren’t being malicious, but we gave a small child a dopamine machine. A drug. It’s tough, but we need to understand that the addict living in our home is one we played a part in creating. It doesn’t mitigate our children from needing to take responsibility, but we have to acknowledge the major barriers to growth we put in their way.

Whatever conversation (or intervention) that needs to happen, it must begin with parents understanding what they’ve done and being willing to say they’re sorry.

It’s a great irony to me when I talk to a parent who wants so bad for their child to “grow up” and “take responsibility for their life”, while that parent can’t accept responsibility for the role they played in the child’s issues.

If we can’t take responsibility, we can’t assume our children will.

Final Step

Beyond I’m sorry, the only thing left is to remove all video game consoles and computers from the home. If someone has an unhealthy relationship with alcohol, the answer isn’t “let’s set up some better ground rules for drinking margaritas”. The answer is “no alcohol in the home. Hard stop.”

Games are the same way.

That means the younger sibling who has a perfectly fine relationship with video games will suffer too. That’s sad, but not as sad as watching an addict unable to recover. In fact, it’s a good time to talk to the younger sibling about suffering for the sake of others, a foundational part of following Jesus.

It Just So Turns Out…

These ideas for parents are simple and can be summarized by saying,

• Understand the part you played

• Apologize for your part

• Remove all gaming

But simple doesn’t mean easy. In fact, I don’t think most parents will do this because it largely means confronting past mistakes and suffering for them by experiencing the hurt and wrath of their adult child. I don’t say that judgmentally, just as a reality.

We’re tired people. This culture weighs us down and few of us are retreating to the Father the way we know we should. Deep down, we understand why our child retreats to video games. You likely have a retreat too, whether it’s Sunday night football, Facebook, news commentators, or whatever else.

Consider a teen boy whose life is filled with news about school shootings, exposure to porn on his social media feeds, the pressures of school, a looming adulthood ahead, and growing up watching mom and dad glued to their phone screens. Why wouldn’t he hide inside a virtual world where he has control and agency and where he doesn’t have to think about the world and the future?

Yet, we—as adults in discipleship to Jesus—know that retreating will only bring longterm pain in exchange for a short term relief.

It just so turns out that the only rational response to handling the vast complexities and pains of this world is to turn our eyes to Christ and follow Him in radical discipleship. How else could we really see the chains of addiction (of any form) broken from ourselves or others? Where else do we get the strength to apologize meaningfully, to forgive others, to bear with our children in their failings? How else do we confront our own shame and keep going, if we can’t see that our shame has been nailed to the cross?

It may seem strange than an article on “parenting adult kids with a borderline video game addiction” concludes like this, but where else do we go when we feel helpless? We can’t just kick our kids out—we know that even with a good job they couldn’t afford an apartment in this economy? But we also know our child isn’t healthy and that we, ourselves, aren’t really the model of health we pretend to be!

It’s too much, it’s overwhelming.

And so, we must go on by “fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart,” (Hebrews 12:2-3 NIV).

Ask your child for forgiveness. Extend forgiveness to your child. Take radical steps to fix what’s been broken. Trust God.

This is part 5 in a series on “A Theology of Video Games”. To see part 1, click here.

I use that word with a more social and nuanced connotation, rather than a clinical definition.

Specifically, I’ve always been pretty belligerent when it comes to telling myself “no” to media. When my pastor suggested I create a life rule where I don’t watch any “R” rated movies, my wife was subjected to weeks of tangents from me that floated somewhere in the vein of logical analysis and self-entitled justifications.

When, years later, my wife wondered aloud why I was in my mid-twenties and still playing video games, she was subjected to similar weeks of me going on and on about how video games in-and-of-themselves aren’t a “problem” and I just enjoy the “art and story” and yada yada.

Sometimes I envy that pastor. He was able to remove whole sections of art and entertainment from his life and only shrug.

That’s just not something I can do. Or may not something I will do.

Or maybe something I just don’t want to do.

It’s all sort of confusing.

In fact, here’s a self-indulgently long foray into my thoughts (let me know if these thoughts echo your own).

The Tennis Match That Won’t End

One one hand, I want to stay engaged in the media I’m passionate about and prone to. What I mean is, playing video games as a hobby allows me to minister in a way I’m not sure I could otherwise.

A number of Christian men have talked to me over the years about the “lines” with video games in relationship to their spiritual walk and their stage of life because they’ve been in my home and saw my Xbox by the TV. Realizing I’m a halfway decent husband and father who loves Jesus and am working slowly through a Baldur’s Gate 3 campaign opens up a lot of discipleship.

Yet, we all know the “I need to keep playing video games to do ministry” excuse is crap. The Holy Spirit isn’t sitting there prodding me to sit in front of the TV because His work will be hindered if I don’t pick up a controller. That’s poor theology and more than a little delusional.

Still, it doesn’t mean the Holy Spirit doesn’t intend to use what I enjoy as I offer it up to Him (insert this current series on a Theology of Video Games). So, even my video game hobby can be used for God’s glory… right?

But I know, when I am really honest with myself, that I don’t play video games exclusively to honor God. I do it, because I like them. But admitting that makes me feel like a heathen and seems to bring a surface level conclusion that I should quit playing games and use my newfound time to pray, study my Bible, or feed the homeless.

Except, no one seems to have this same struggle over reading fiction books or watching movies. Where is the intervention for the guy who will watch six to eight hours of sports this weekend, literally shifting his family’s whole schedule around the time so and so plays so and so?

A Sober Truth

There probably should be an intervention for Christians deeply embedded in sport’s culture and game times, but that isn’t for me and this article.

Like alcohol, video games really are fine… up to a point. And then there is a point in which the hobby has gone too far and the person in question is no longer an accurate judge of what is “good” and “bad” for themselves. Our motives become cloudy and confused, and we begin to lie to ourselves and others.

Quick signs you’re in problematic territory (even if not clinical addiction, which I am not expert on and can’t speak to):

• You get uncomfortable when someone brings up the idea of stopping playing video games.

• You play more than three or four times a week.

• You won’t fast long periods of time.

• You play games you know aren’t good for you and shrug off that guilty feeling that nags at you.

I’m sure there are logical exceptions to every one of the above. The exceptions probably have to do with career professionals in game design, esports, or something along those lines.

Almost certainly not you.

For you and I, we have to cultivate a life that is welcoming to the Spirit in all areas. And, the good news is, God enjoys entering into our hobbies alongside us and redeeming them. Woodworking, watching sports, playing video games, reading fiction, hiking, skateboarding, basket weaving… whatever. God enjoys human endeavors of creativity and leisure.

The thing is, we all know that when we invite God truly into our hobbies and life He’s liable to wreck the whole system of how we engage with those leisures in a way that conforms to His Kingdom.

For some, He’ll remove video games entirely and never desire for you to return. I’m not sorry for you, I’m excited for you. He’ll remove that idol and give you something wonderful instead. Throw away your TV if it’s even a small barrier between you and God. What is anything worth in comparison to knowing God?

For others, video games aren’t an idol but in the category of hobby that needs to be conformed to Him. Go ahead and take a month off (see my last post referencing fasting). After that month, you’ll have more clarity on what moving forward looks like for you.

Next week, we talk parenting.

This is part 4 in a series on “A Theology of Video Games”. To see part 1, click here.

This is part 3 in a series on “A Theology of Video Games”. Click here to see the series homepage.

Although I’ve never thought of it this way until writing this series, I think you could classify my approach to video games as a mix of disciplines and guidelines.

Disciplines are life exercises I have put in place to help shape me to be like Jesus and keep my heart turned toward him.

Guidelines are guardrails I’ve put up because I’m aware of my sin nature (especially in light of God’s holiness). These are lines I’ve identified that I don’t think Jesus would cross, and so I don’t either.1

Below are a catalogue of some of those disciplines and guidelines. Please don’t think of this as “everyone must do these to be holy”, but as a challenge I give to you.

Read them, process them, and incorporate similar disciplines and guidelines into your life.

Regular Fasting

Every January and July, I fast from video games2. I chose those months randomly—though it works out nice that’s it the beginning and middle of the year—but the rhythm is very intentional.

These fasts help keep me from falling into unhealthy habits. For me, it’s easy to get to the point where video games either become

1. a coping mechanism3 and/or

2. the place I spend my creative energy.

In fact, I also choose to fast video games during times of high stress or grief. I know me and I know the temptation to “check out” from life by escaping into a fictional world.

So, this first discipline helps shape me into a person who both has creative energy for endeavors I’m called to and is more inclined to run to Jesus when I experience stress.

I once heard someone, discussing a different spiritual discipline, as a way of “realigning their eyes on Jesus”. I like that image. Certain spiritual practices, like fasting—whether food, video games, or something else which may hold our hearts—can remind our bodies and minds that Jesus is the Lord of our life, and the sustenance for our souls.

He is always my ultimate joy, not any form of entertainment.

Play Like Jesus

Video games are, by default, an engagement-driven form of entertainment. They are active, not passive.

Like it or not, the active choices I make in a game can shape me as a person. This is an uncomfortable truth, and one that is commonly denied. But denying something doesn’t make it untrue.

So, if the choices I make in a game will form me in some way, I need to play a game like Jesus would.

This has complication that arise very quickly, but let’s first stick to some areas in which the lines are clearer, and we’ll work towards the gray areas afterward.

Decisions in Role Play Games

It’s common today to have RPGs which allow the player to do “good” things and “bad” things.4 In fact, I’m playing one of the greatest of such games right now with my oldest son, Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic5. As he and I are going through the game, the character is faced with “light side” and “dark side” choices.

I am teaching my son to treat those moments like “real life”, trying to choose what seems most right in God’s eyes. Sometimes he and I are tempted to choose a “not so nice” option in order to be mean or vengeful, but I force us to play the “good” way.

This means I block us off from “evil play throughs” and from seeing certain gameplay options and storylines.

I acknowledge that.

But it’s a guardrail, a way of protecting my (and my son’s) heart. It may be small and feel really insignificant, but that’s how many things feel in the Kingdom. What seems to have no outward meaning to the world often contains eternal significance.

When you have a moment in a game in which you have your character do something cruel, then you feel a warmth of humor or satisfaction, you’ve shaped yourself to be a little less like Jesus.

Considering More Linear Gameplay

But what about games that contain no options, but the the player is forced to do certain actions, some of which seem bad?

For example, I remember one moment when playing It Takes Two with my wife. We had to engage in trying to murder a stuffed elephant that had come to life. The scene was strange because I felt bad as I spammed the “x” button to try and force the elephant off a cliff tabletop.

So what’s the answer?

Pay attention to your conscious, or spirit.

Usually, I just opt out of games in which the I should do something that makes me uncomfortable. Though, I’ll make exceptions when the art seems to have a bigger narrative and a more nuanced view. It Takes Two is a good example of that. The scene I referenced earlier was very intentionally written in a way to communicate “this is bad”.6

Other games get far more complicated, such as The Last of Us. Many of us will come down on two different sides of that conversation.

But games like Grand Theft Auto should just be avoided. They are designed, from the ground up, in calling “good” what God calls “bad”.

For those ready to fight me on this last point, I’ll just say that most of us have video game backlogs so long we could play into retirement and not put a dent in them. Instead of flirting with something we all know is jacked up, we can just choose a different game.

No Hyper-Realistic “Shooty-Shooty Bang-Bang”

Shooters are a large part of the video gaming landscape, and they range wildly in type. For me, I stay away from “hyper-realistic” shooting games. These are games in which I would participate in a very believable shooting/killing experience.

I acknowledge that terms such as “realistic” and “believable” are subjective. I get that. Is Call of Duty hyper-realistic? Is Battlefield?

I won’t make a blanket statement. I’ll just say that in my past (and perhaps yours too) I liked the idea of using violence to be a “good guy”. Action movies and shooters were my jam, and it always intended to conceal carry a gun so I could save the day if needed. These thoughts did not form me to be like Jesus.

I’m far removed from that pre-Jesus person, which is why I generally don’t enjoy shooting a real-looking gun at real-looking people.

Generally, which means sometimes I do.

And when I do, I need to ask “why do I like this?” And asking that question led to a realization that sometimes I play video games because I like the idea of doing something Jesus does not enjoy.

So I don’t play hyper-realistic shooters.

It’s a line I’ve drawn for myself, meaning there are large swaths of games I don’t play. For me, playing such games would make me go against my conscious and it would be a sin for me.

So now I wonder if I’m a hypocrite when I make an exception and play a game like Overwatch 2, which isn’t hyper-realistic but does include shooting at human-like characters. Or The Finals, or Battlefront, or any number of other games I’ve played since taking this stance.

I don’t know if I’m right, but I think there’s something important about being willing to admit where we are weak and then making space for God to convict us there.

God can work in my weakness, but won’t work in my pride.

Be Intentional and Don’t Make Excuses

I need to be very thoughtful and very intentional about why I play video games to ensure that I’m being the person God desires me to be.

And when I feel an excuse or defensiveness rising up—“I’m tired”, “it’s not a big deal”, “I just like the story”, “I need to be in the world to minister to the world”, etc.—I reject it.

Excuses are for children, not for maturing followers of Jesus.

Actually—speaking of children—being a father has been a catalyst for deep intentionality in my life. I play games I don’t allow my children to play based on their current stage of development, and that means I can dance very closely with hypocrisy.7 Because I’m making that decision—to do something I wouldn’t let my children do—I should have a good reason for it.

Currently I’m playing through Baldur’s Gate 3. So, I need to ask myself why I’m playing through it, and be raw and honest.

The answer, for the record, is that I like it. It’s a fantastic piece of art made with care by people who are excellent at their craft.

It’s also a game filled with stuff that does not please Jesus. Stuff that’s genuinely evil and wrong, which has made me consider stopping. But I haven’t because it is also a game that give me the ability to choose good and bad, so i can navigate this dirty video game landscape in a way that may be pleasing to Jesus.

I also may be wrong.

All I can do is be humble and keep questioning and muddling through tough questions. I must be sure I don’t just exert my “right” to do what I want because I fall under God’s grace, and use these questions and gray spaces to become more mature and meditative in my walk with Jesus.

Maybe I’m just making complicated excuses to justify my desire to play video games. Maybe I’m helping myself and others blaze a path forward to Christ-likeness in the engagement of a complicated art form.

Time will tell. All I can do is sit before the Father, modeling myself after the Son, and giving the Spirit free reign in my life.

God help me.

7

Though, to be fair, I drive cars and drink alcohol, and they can’t do those either.

This is part 2 in a series on “A Theology of Video Games”. To see part 1, click here.

I once had a pastor who had a strict rule for himself: no “R” rated movies. He didn’t even watch The Passion of the Christ when it released.

His reasoning was that “R” rated movies generally incorporated content that wasn’t good for him and his spiritual walk with Jesus. He knew, of course, that not all “R” rated movie were “bad”, but he felt that creating a blanket rule protected him. Plus, what was he really missing out on? He was content and satisfied with his life and didn’t need movies to bring him fulfillment.1

Over the years, I’ve vacillated over whether or not he had the “right” way of things.

On one hand, there is an obvious wisdom here. You can avoid a lot of problematic content by just cutting it out entirely. And there is something freeing in saying “no thanks, I’m good” to media. Many of us can’t say “no” to the impulses we have for consumption, though we would rarely admit it.2

Yet, it never set right with me to take a blanket “no ‘R’ movies” approach for my own life. Firstly, the movie rating system isn’t a good gauge for what is, or isn’t, healthy in the area of spiritual formation. Plenty of PG movies turn my spirit to idolizing violence, vanity, materialism, etc., while a movie like Schindler’s List — which has a strong “R” rating — made me long for the Kingdom of Heaven to reign on earth.

Secular rating systems have a good and needed purpose, but stewarding my spiritual formation isn’t that purpose.

Secondly, I want to engage in difficult content. I’m a Christian, and I want to push deep into all the darkest parts of the world to shine light, not ignore the existence of the darkness.

But I’m also selfish and carnal, and sometimes I just like movies, music, video games, books, and illustrations that are objectively sinful. Throughout my life my, I’ve been drawn to the bloody, gritty, profane, and pornographic.

I don’t say this defensively, just honestly.

And in light of my sin nature and the draw of that content, my former pastor may be right.

Step 1 - Honest Assessment

If there were steps to take to form a healthy Theology of Video Games (and I’m not sure there is), then I think the first step would be to take an honest assessment of our motives for wanting to play video games. This is a time for asking, “why don’t I want to give this up and not come back?”

This needs to be a partner-with-Jesus kind of activity, in which we put all our crappy and defensive excuses aside and just allow Him to show us our sin and carnality. None of us (I repeat, none of us) have purely good reasons for wanting to play video games.

We are all mixed bags who can say with Paul, “For I do not understand what I am doing; for I am not practicing what I want to do, but I do the very thing I hate.”3

I took an honest assessment for the first time a few years ago and discovered a whole bunch of stuff I didn’t like. Sure, I played video games “because I like them”, but that begged the question, “Well, why do you like them?”

After some soul-searching with Jesus, I discovered:

• Video games help me cope.

  • So often, my life feels out of control. With four kids, bills to pay, and life goals that often loom so large and take so long to complete… it feels wonderful to play a game in which I can make things go my way.

• I like feeling good at something.

  • When I fail in a video games, it’s usually a failing-forward experience. I learn, I restart, I succeed. It’s a loop that can happen four or five times in one evening, not spaced out over months or years, like in the rest of my life. And it feels good.4

• Going along with that last point, I like feeling… powerful?

  • That’s not the right word exactly, but it also kinda is. What else do you call that feeling of facing someone or something in (virtual) combat and winning? I dunno, but whatever it is, I like it.

• I love story with choice.

  • I’m a writer, so I love story in general. But stories that let me be both a consumer and a creator at the same time are truly special. Movies are a wonderful art form, but they rarely have the dynamic story telling that video games are capable of.

• Video games encourage me to be curious.

  • More and more, video games want me to explore, push limits, and be curious. That’s so engaging and it scratches an itch I rarely get elsewhere. I can spend an hour just “poking around” in a video game world, seeing what happens when I do this or go there.

• I love working with my friends.

  • Games can give me and my group of friends a collective goal and challenge to work towards, and it’s how I stay connected and in relationship with friends I’ve had for years. If I didn’t play games, I’d lose touch with them, and that scares me.

If you’re a gamer, your list will likely overlap with mine and also include plenty of items mine didn’t have. Whatever your list entails, you must choose to be courageous enough to actually talk to God about who you really are and what your heart really looks like.

The good and the bad.

My list has some “good” things on it (or at least neutral ones). Although we are sinful and fallen people, we’re also image bearers of the Creator of the Universe. Don’t be afraid to ask the Lord to search your heart. Actually, I would say that we should only be afraid of refusing to allow the Lord to work in our hearts.

Step 2 - Admit There Is Some Connection

Many Christians will not grow in their relationship with Jesus simply because they see their spiritual growth separate from everything else in their life. It’s almost like we see our “spirit” as this thing that sits in a white-walled clean room in our hearts, unaffected by what we do, say, or think. Only when we choose to sanitize ourselves, throw on a hazmat suit, and walk into room in our hearts (maybe by attending church, reading our Bible, etc.) do we think that we make any impact on our spirit.

But that’s not true.

It is more helpful to imagine spiritual “you” is a ball of Play-Doh slowly taking on the shape of the media you consume, the activities you participate in, and the community you cultivate.5

If I play video games and see no connection to how it forms me spiritually, I am blind.

I would argue that we play video games because they form us. Video games give us memories and experiences that join in with our lives’ other memories and experiences to shape who we are.

The problem is, if I admit that a connection exists between my spiritual formation and video games, then I must confront the negatives sides to that.

And if I confront the negatives sides of video games, and admit there is a possibility they will form me to be less like Jesus, then I may have to withhold certain games from myself (or stop gaming at all?). And that’s a scary line of thinking, because I really like games.

But if we are willing to concede there is a connection between the video games I play—and how I play them6—then I can have an honest conversation with God about how I should (or shouldn’t) engage with video games.

And the best part is that, when I begin that conversation, I will break down a wall that may have been preventing intimacy with God.

Intimacy with Jesus isn’t born from living a life free of sin and failure, but being fiercely transparent with Jesus about our sin and failure. It is choosing spiritual nakedness before God, rather than covering ourselves up with the fig leaves titled “it’s just a game and doesn’t matter”.

If it didn’t matter, we wouldn’t want to play them so much.

Step 3 - Flounder Desperately and Do Everything Wrong

Our next article will dive into some thoughts on how to play video games in a way that honors God. I might be right with some of those thoughts, though I’m probably—at least a little—wrong.

That’s because I’m still in pseudo-step three of this journey. It’s the step we never leave.

Once we know that there’s a connection between video games and our spiritual formation, we’re faced with a choice: Do we change how we play games so that we are formed to be more like Jesus, or do we continue on doing what seems right in our own eyes?7

Let’s assume we decide to try and be more like Jesus.

The thing is, Jesus didn’t play Halo or Super Mario Smash Melee8 due (at least in part) to His birth being some two thousand years ago. This means we’re left with hypotheticals. Would Jesus have hopped onto a couch and played Overcooked 2? Would He have played 007 Goldeneye? Would He have said “no” to games in general, or just played ones rated “E for Everyone”.

The thing is, I don’t know.

I don’t know exactly what Jesus would do if He were on earth today and in my cultural setting. But I am getting to know His character the more I study the Scriptures and act like Him. As I learn more about Jesus, I continue to refine all areas of my life, including my video gaming.

I feel fairly confident that future-Phil9 will disagree with today-Phil. But all I can do is be incredibly honest with Jesus and act in accordance with my conscious.

This “in accordance with my conscious” thing isn’t anti-Biblical, by the way.

The Apostle Paul was writing to the church in Rome while it struggled with a theological (and very practical for them) question about whether or not they should eat meat that had been sacrificed to a false god prior to them purchasing it. I cannot recommend enough that you read the whole chapter of Romans 14, as it applies to neatly to our conversation here. I’ll just draw attention to Paul’s closing argument.

So whatever you believe about these things keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the one who does not condemn himself by what he approves. But whoever has doubts is condemned if they eat, because their eating is not from faith; and everything that does not come from faith is sin.10

What Paul is saying is, “Eating the meat that was sacrificed to idols is fine, unless you really think it may be wrong. If you think it may really be wrong, then if you eat it it’s sin to you.”

Friend, only do things you truly believe (through faith) pleases the Lord. If you think there is a chance it does not please God, do not do it.

This means that some of us, like those in the Roman church two thousand years ago, will come to different conclusions. Don’t feel pressure to agree with my conclusion about what games to play or not play, but I beg you to think critically about how you engage with video games and be willing to change as God leads you.

Which also means you must be humble and open before the Lord, asking Him to change you.

We’ll pick up this thread next week.

10

Romans 14: 22-23 NIV

I was five or six when I first picked up an NES1 controller, and I never stopped playing games since. Through elementary and middle school, I would game when my homework was complete and chores were done. Sometimes with my brothers, sometimes alone.

As a teenager, video games became a bonding agent for me and my handful of friends. We were a bunch of dudes in the grand ‘ole days LAN2 parties, Little Caesar’s $5 hot-n-ready, and Mt. Dew Code Red.

As we aged, our diets changed (for some of us, anyway) and we moved from local area networks to Discord servers, but I still play video games with that same group of guys two decades later.

I think our parents—and maybe us, too—thought we would grow out of video games. If the industry had stayed pixelated and simple, I think we would have. But as technology improved, so did the medium. Video games matured rapidly in their ability to tell compelling stories and create engaging worlds—and in their ability to tap into the dopamine cycles that keep us wanting more.

Video games are now a massive part of the modern media landscape, and they do what all art and media do: introduce swaths of blessings, curses, and complications.

For parents, pastors, and those (like me) who are both gamers and followers of Jesus, dozens of questions swarm about us.

• Is it okay for a Christian to pick up a controller and do in a video game what, in real life, would be called “sin”?

• Where is the line as it relates to hobby and addiction?

• Should I play something I wouldn’t want my kid seeing?

• Should I put money and time in this hobby, when I could instead donate both to more “worthy” causes?

• And a lot more.

I didn’t grow up in a thoughtful Christian community that wrestled with hard things. I was not prepared to engage with art in an intentional way, and so I’ve often felt as though I was groping through the dark to discern what is “right” and “wrong” in the gray spaces of life. This is even more true with video games: an art form that introduces a lot of complexities that other, more passive, arts do not.

For me (and for some of you reading this) the conversation is deeply uncomfortable because we already know its fraught with metaphorical landmines and personal experiences of feeling judged. It may even make you want to stop reading now.

But please, keep going.

What follows is more confessional than definitive instruction. More desperate than self-assured. I want to know how to honor God in every area of my life, which means I can allow no area to go unexplored.

But I also don’t think chucking an entire art form out the window is the way to do that. There is something redeeming and wonderful in (almost) all human arts, but it is also a strange and terrible task to try and mine out and define what is “good” and “bad”.

Honestly, it’s a task wrought with legalism, judgment, assumed motive, and inaccurate assumptions. But it's also a task that—if done well—can form us to be far more like Jesus, and more authentic and loving followers of His.

So, please don’t make me go it alone. I invite you into my years-long exploration, and I pray the Lord chooses to impart wisdom as we wrestle. For perhaps, like Jacob, we will emerge from this wrestling with blessing.

Video Games as Art

I think it is best to identify video games as a form of art.

I have two primary reasons for this:

1. Because it is art. I mean… c’mon.

2. And since it is art, we can leverage principles and practices Christians have used when engaging in other art forms and apply them to video games (with some modifications). We don’t have to start from zero, even though video games do bring some unique ideas/problems that we’ll get to.

Merriam-Webster3 defines “art” as “the conscious use of skill and creative imagination especially in the production of aesthetic objects.”4

Modifying this gets us to a decent definition of video games. Maybe it would go something like, “video games are software-based applications created with the conscious use of skill and creative imagination—often by a collective of individuals—for the purpose of aesthetic pleasure and engagement of the intended audience.“

Art.

The thing is, video games enter the world of art in a way that no other mass-produced and scalable medium ever has: video games primarily create space for player agency, meaning that the audience (the player) partakes in shaping the art.5

Other art forms have incorporated this idea before, of course. Consider an audience during a live music performance or a reader of a “Choose Your Own Adventure” novel. Even sitcoms which rely on an audience to come to a particular episode with a knowledge of current events, is working to engage the audience.

Art is always at its best with it’s done in some form of dialogue or collaboration with the audience.

But video games—more than any other art form—push this boundary to its limits. Arguably, video games exist in order to push this boundary. Developers and gamers alike keep coming back to this medium of art to see how far we can go in player agency.

Without player agency—which is defined as the ability for a player to make choices and interact with the world—there are no video games.

It is this player agency that makes video games both so enjoyable and so troublesome.

Watching a movie in which a character kills another character can seem problematic, but the audience is exclusively a viewer—no agency at all. There is distance between the audience and the action on screen. A gap as wide as “well, I wouldn’t have done that, personally…”

So what do you do when you’re holding a controller and you pull the trigger and participate in an act of imagined violence?6 Suddenly, the distance found in every other form of art is erased and now the audience is doing the action and making the choice.

This creates a whole slew of potential problems as it relates to spiritual formation. Are we formed by those choices we make in these virtual worlds? How far can we push the language, “it’s just a game”?

For now, we’ll end with this simple point: Video games are a form of art, carrying all the blessings and curses that art can carry into our society. Just like any other form of art, the Church shouldn’t ignore it, or chuck it out the window, or pretend it has no impact on who we are.

And yet, though video games may be art, they are art with new boundaries. Boundaries that—for many of us—feel under-explored as it intersects with our spiritual formation.

That’s where we’ll pick up next week.

6

Kinda literally, since on video game controllers the button to fire a weapon is called a “trigger”.

Like a whole lot of male-millennials, I‘ve played video games since right around the time I learned to read.

And like a whole lot of male-millennials who ended up following Jesus in college, I’ve often felt their may be a disconnect between the teachings of Jesus and blasting aliens in Halo… but I haven’t known what to do with it.

We humans (me included) have a terrible habit of refusing to think deeply about areas we know God wants to wrestle us into becoming more like Him. For some reasons, video games strike close to home for many of us.

But we have a responsibility to work through this thoughtfully. Our children and their children should not be asked to blaze a new trail because we refused to think critically and be humble before God.

This wrestling — the asking tough questions about how we’re formed by, and should interact with, video games— is worthy and important. It’s a way that we can create a solid, if modest, foundation of theological thought and holy living for those who follow us. It’s a responsibility, and a reasonable act of service to the Lord.

For the next few weeks, I’ll be dropping a new article every Wednesday that delves deep into all the questions surrounding video games and spiritual formation. Consider these to be part confessional and part guidebook — filled with lessons learned and questions I’m still asking.

We’ll talk about:

• Navigating video games as a form of art.

• The first steps to getting started in spiritual formation.

• The line between hobby and coping mechanism.

• Flirting with hypocrisy.

• Trying to parent (both as a gamer yourself, or with children who game).

• And a lot more.

This will be what Substack calls a “Section”, meaning it will have its own email list. If you received this email, you’re on the list. If you’d like to unsubscribe, feel free to do so.

But if you, a loved one of yours, or someone in your congregation, plays video games… please stick around.

First post drops this Wednesday.